Broken
by Austin Blake
Summary: Angel finds hope to go on from someone from his past. Based after the series finale. (Chances are, if you're not Jen, you won't know what this is about.)


**DISCLAIMER**: I own none of the characters. Joss does. The bastard.

**DEDICATION**: To Rae, who wanted me to resurrect the genre personally. Pressure much? And to Jeni, this angel's only source of sunshine...and the only girl Angel's seen in the last couple of years. Salvation and redemption, all in a pretty blonde package (It's an inside thing. Don't ask.) I wrote this just for her. Many might not get it. Screw 'em.

**INFO**: After the series finale of Angel. Yeah, it's song-fic-y goodness. Also, it's an Angel/Marie pairing. Who's Marie? Apparently Buffy, only with blue eyes. You don't like made up characters? Fine. Just imagine Marie is Buffy...or Cordelia...or...Wesley. Whatever tickles your fancy. This isn't about pleasing you. It's about pleasing her. Who's her? God, I thought we covered this already...just read. If you don't like it, I can always write an alternate version. "Broken" lyrics by Seether.

BROKEN 

_I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh..._

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away..._

There was so much blood. Willow didn't know how he could still be losing any at all. She dipped the now-ruined white washcloth into the basin of water on the nightstand, and wrung it out before drawing the damp fabric across a rather large gash across Angel's ribs. He made no motion to show that it hurt. His eyes just stared up at the ceiling, empty, devoid of emotion or any sign that he was alive at all. Because he wasn't alive inside. Hell, he wasn't technically alive on the outside either. But he was still, still as death...maybe because he knew death was coming for him. Willow rinsed the cloth out again. He'd only said two words to her since he'd come to her doorstep.

"They're dead."

He'd meant everyone he ever cared about in L.A. Spike, Illyria, Gunn, Wesley...everyone who stood by his side was now deceased. But somehow, he'd made it out. Made it to her. And Willow knew his nature. Most likely he was killing himself about the fact that he was still standing, figuratively speaking anyway. But his eyes...Willow had never seen that expression on his face before. But she'd seen it on her own. It was the expression of nothing left to lose. She feared that deep inside of Angel's seemingly fractured mind, he wasn't as still as he let on. She felt something within him was stirring, and turbulently. She was afraid that once she'd healed him, he'd do something stupid, something that would get him killed.

Willow had observed his wounds and figured big things, and many of them, were responsible. She'd set up a spell to hide him from being seen by eyes physical and mystical, at least eyes that wanted to do him harm. But she had an eerie feeling that she was prolonging the inevitable. As she ran the cloth gently over another wound, her thoughts were interrupted by a weak voice.

"Sorry about the sheets."

Willow smiled. "Don't worry about those. Didn't like them anyway. You just concentrate on resting and getting better."

His eyes looked into hers for the first time in hours. "You know what I'm going to do, don't you...?"

Her small hand wrapped around his, and tears started forming in her eyes. "Don't you dare...I don't know what did this, but you can't survive it again. Let me call Buffy...someone...just...we'll find a way to stop it okay? A way that doesn't involve you dying."

His eyes went back to the ceiling at the mention of Buffy's name. "It's Hell, Will. Hell's coming for me. As long as I'm here, you're not safe." He sat up, his eyes cast downward. "No one else will die because of me. It has to end."

"You always were melodramatic." The voice came from the doorway of the bedroom. As Angel looked up to find the source of the remark, his eyes widened a bit. If his heart had been beating, it would have skipped a beat. Propped up against the doorframe, smiling, was Marie. Her blue eyes sparkled at seeing him again...it had been so long. She looked exhausted, but she kept the smile even has she walked over to the bed, sitting opposite of Willow. She took his hand in hers as well and kissed it.

Angel cast a dark look of sorts at Willow. "You called her...?"

Willow grinned sheepishly. "Well...yeah. I thought she'd want to know."

Angel narrowed his eyes. "Have you called Buffy yet?"

"No," Marie replied, making him look at her. "I asked her not to. I figured in your condition, you can only handle one blonde nagging you not to go jumping off to your death." Marie caught sight of the locket around Angel's neck that dangled so lightly in front of his broad chest. Before he could reply, she took hold of it in two fingers, stealing a gentle caress of her fingertips against his cool, smooth skin. She opened it and smiled at the picture inside. Only taken a few years ago, but seeming like a lifetime, was a photograph of Angel holding her. It only reminded her how long it had been since they'd embraced.

_I keep your photograph and I know it serves me well..._

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain..._

He'd sent her away, told her the life was too dangerous and he wouldn't risk losing someone her cared about. She never realized how often he said that. Angel was always concerned about someone else, never about himself. She was closer to the mystical grapevine than Willow, and knew exactly what happened in L.A. And she knew he'd signed away his Shanshu, only to be given this current existence of immanent death. A tear fell from her eye, and Willow took that as her cue to leave. Saying nothing, Willow slowly exited, pondering what Marie's arrival might mean for Angel's survival.

Marie closed the locket and looked at Angel, noticing that he wasn't looking at her. She smiled and indicated the silver cross she was wearing. "We all have our mementos, dear. It was a nice time in my life. I wish I had that again."

"You need to leave." Angel looked up at her, trying to look menacing, but the glistening in his soft brown eyes gave him away.

"I never do what I'm told, you know that by now." And with that, she kissed him.

_'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome..._

_And I don't feel right when you've gone away..._

_You've gone away, you don't feel me, anymore..._

Marie didn't have to wait long before he responded. He kissed her back and hard, pent-up emotion controlling his actions. All the time they'd missed, all the pain they couldn't share, all the happiness they never got to have, all of it poured into their lips. Marie felt the urge to breathe, but fought it off for a few more seconds. It wasn't often lately that she got to kiss the man she loved, and she was going to milk it for all it was worth. She reluctantly pulled away, resting her head against his chest, wary of his wounds. She wanted something to be said, but part of her didn't want to be the first to say it. Luckily, she wasn't.

"I love you, Marie."

"I love you too."

Their affirmations of love were whispered quietly, not wanting mere words to displace what their hearts already knew. She wrapped his arms about him accidently hitting several wounds, but Angel didn't flinch, for the pain deadened away to the sweetness that was her embrace, and it was a small price to pay.

"Just give me a chance to fix this." Marie pleaded quietly, her eyes closing. Angel kissed the top of her head, and she took that as a yes. He yielded to her wants, as always. He never could refuse her.

_The worst is over now and we can breathe again..._

_I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away..._

_There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight..._

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain..._

Angel kissed her forehead and closed his eyes. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come tonight...if I would have had the strength to go on existing..."

"Nonsense." Marie said, placing a few small kisses on his chest. "You'd have been fine. You're a champion." She looked up at him and kissed his lips gingerly. "I mean it. You're a good man, Angel. Things will work out, you'll see..."

Angel looked up at the ceiling once more, but his eyes weren't as empty as they once were. And for a second, a split-second, he stopped brooding...and believed her.

_'Cause I'm broken when I'm open..._

_And I don't feel like I am strong enough..._

_'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome..._

_And I don't feel right when you've gone away..._

-----

TO BE CONTINUED...

[For Jeni.]


End file.
